


Dear Sauron

by SusanaR



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe G version (DH AU G) [47]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Backstory, F/M, Family, Fishing, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:30:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: What was it that Sauron wanted so badly in the Greenwood, to besiege it for over a thousand years?





	Dear Sauron

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 1: This story takes place in the early Third Age, around year 5 of the Third Age. So, a few years after the death of Isildur at Gladden Fields in T.A. year 2 and well before Elrond marries Celebrian in T.A. 109.
> 
> A/N 2: I am using a number of Kaylee and Emma's elven OCs in my stories, with their kind permission. Queen Minaethiel is one of those OCs.
> 
> A/N 3: This was written a long time ago, and I am just now getting around to posting it here. I have made few changes to it, so please excuse any errors or inconsistencies with other stories!

The King of the Greenwood mostly liked having a wife, and a fosterling. Thranduil did not particularly like being a King. He had gradually learned that 'I'm going camping/fishing/walking with my wife and our foster-son' was an excellent excuse for postponing many royal duties and tasks, and even an enjoyable one. 

And particularly so during the visits of the young human King Valandil, Isiludur's only living son and heir. Valandil was the ward of Thranduil's cousin Elrond, the Lord of Imladris. When he attained his majority, Volandil would have much less time for visits and youthful fun. But for now, his mother Kiriel reigned in his stead as Queen Regent of Arnor, and Valandil was free to visit his distant kin in Lothlorien and the Greenwood. 

Thranduil blinked, startled out of his reflections by a shower of clear droplets assaulting his previously dry face and tunic. Thranduil's cousin Celebrian grinned at him impishly from her seat on the other side of the creek they were fishing in, before kicking another light spray of water in his direction. 

"A copper for your thoughts?" She teased. 

Not particularly wanting to share, Thranduil replied with mock-hauteur. "I am merely hoping that you will be a gracious loser when the Greenwood once again shows the Goldenwood elves to be poor fishermen." Thranduil gestured to the heavy barrel of fish he, his escort, and his foster-son Thalion had caught over the course of the morning, in comparison to the much lighter barrel containing the fish netted by Celebrian and the younger two of her adopted brothers. 

That distracted his silver-haired cousin and her rambunctious brothers quite nicely, allowing Thranduil to return to his ruminations as Thalion and Volandil stood up for the honor of the Greenwood. 

Taking in Thalion as a foster-son had worked out surprisingly well, Thranduil mused, in terms of it having given Valandil a contemporary with whom to relate at Thranduil's court. Both youths had lost their fathers, and both were naturally of a solemn, responsible bent. As was Orophin, who had also lost his father to the war. Rumil, the youngest of Celebrian's foster brothers, tended to be boisterous and outgoing, albeit in a friendly way. He had a generally positive effect on the elder elflings and Valandil, and it was nice to see them relaxing a bit. 

Thranduil concentrated on enjoying the afternoon, the way the dappled sunlight reached down through layers of green leaves and the soft whispers of the trees. The way his wife Minaethiel frowned adorably with concentration as Valandil, Rumil and Thalion tried to show her how the humans wove bright string into bait lures, and the way that Celebrian and Elrond exchanged sweet, somewhat sappy smiles when they thought that no one was looking. The way that these children, born in a time of war and terror, now acted like children and played together. Unusually content with the world in this moment, Thranduil listened with half an ear as the children chattered and the creek rushed and babbled. 

Elrond and Celebrian must have been paying closer attention, since one of them had the sense to toss a small pebble in Thranduil's direction to warn him when the topic of the ring came up. Or rather, THE RING. The ring that Sauron had forged, that he'd used to try to conquer their world in blood and fire. The ring that their great enemy had worn when his creatures had slayed Thranduil's father Oropher, and Thalion's father Aerandir, and Orophin's father Emlyn, not to mention Valandil's grandfather Elendur, and Elrond's foster-brother Ereinion Gil-galad, and Celebrian's uncle Amdir. The ring that Valandil's father Isildur had failed to destroy, despite Elrond's strenuously urging him to do so. The ring which had probably led to Isildur's death on Gladden Fields, when Thranduil had come only too late to his aid. 

In any case, Elrond, Celebrian, and Thranduil were sensitive to the possibility that the topic of the ring might distress Valandil. Thranduil would have expected Thalion and Orophin to also have realized that, and felt rather disappointed in them. He glared at his foster-son, who was inconveniently facing in the other direction. 

"Yes," Orophin continued, "It really is a shame that THE RING wasn't lost in a well-hidden pile of a bunch of other rings." 

Thranduil's eyes finally made contact with Thalion's. The dark-haired elfling took a brief, horrified breath of realization. Then he kicked Orophin, nodding subtly in Valandil's direction. 

But Valandil, fortunately, seemed interested and amused rather than grieved. Thranduil forbore from further comment for the time being, although he did glare at Orophin's cousin Ecthelion, called Theli, when that elf, who was an adult and a healer in Thranduil's employ and who should have known better, also joined in the discussion of the ring. 

"Hmm." Continued Theli whimsically, "Like, perhaps if it were a ring in a forest of rings." 

Thranduil was so distracted by that comment, that he barely heard the next one.

"Dear Disembodied Spirit of Sauron," Orophin jested, "We tossed your precious ring into the maw of a kraken. That kraken is currently living at the bottom of a crocodile and mosquito infested swamp. Good luck in getting it back. Hugs and kisses, the elves and men." 

Valandil laughed, and so did everyone else. Even Thranduil smiled, through his abstraction, as he mused through the germ of an idea. 

On the way home from that fishing trip, Thranduil pulled Valandil aside, and then Minaethiel and Elrond. Valandil liked the idea, and Elrond said it had promise, but that the potential risk to Greenwood was...practically incalculable. Minaethiel said that she trusted Thranduil to make the right decision.

Next Thranduil took his idea to the audience he felt had the most to lose...Greenwood's trees. In a long, strange conversation, he shared with the trees his memories of what facing Sauron's armies had been like. Thranduil clearly and bluntly warned them that his plan might make Sauron hurt them, and hurt the elves and animals of Greenwood. But he also shared his memories of the Entwives' butchered nurseries.. the dead trees, and the dead land of Mordor. Thranduil explained to the trees again what a lie was (although they were somewhat familiar with this concept from previous conversations with him), and what Thranduil hoped to gain. A future in which what was left of Sauron futilely wasted his energies in their wood, looking for a ring that was not there. A forest of rings, and no ring truly in the forest...a delay, a stop-gap, a hope that the Enemy would never regain his greatest weapon. It was a gamble...a potentially costly gamble, high-risk and uncertain reward, and Thranduil didn't try to hide any of that from the trees. 

In the end the trees replied, in their breathy, leafy voice that whispered through his mind like the wind through the branches of his tallest friends, "Yeeesss Thrrannnduillll.....wee willlll lieee forr youuu. Wee wiilll saayy thaatt weee haave thee disssgussttinggg shiinnyy cirrclle...nott giivve upp sliimmyyy cirrcllee...neevveerrr." 

Thranduil presented this to his council as more or less a fait accompli. He hadn't meant to, necessarily. But the trees said this was one of the moments when they were going to do what seemed best to them, and they'd already made up their collective leafy minds that they liked his plan. Greenwood's council fortunately didn't realize (most of them) that this was a done thing, and spent several careful weeks debating it before deciding that they would do as the trees wished, and the trees wished to roll their dice as the King wished. Thranduil then directed that certain rumors be spread, all the while hoping that he had not doomed everything he held dear.


End file.
